


Faces of Home

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lance reunites with his family, Langst, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 15:32:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14023293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: There were murmured, familiar voices when Lance awoke that quieted almost immediately when he blinked open his eyes. "Easy, easy," someone soothed as he tried to sit up. Someone familiar. Lance gasped. "Mamá?" Because somehow... somehow he was home. / Lance is injured in a fight against the Galra and wakes to find himself in the care of his family. But... how did he wind up back on Earth? Something isn't quite right...





	Faces of Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glitteringconstellations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteringconstellations/gifts).



> **Timeline notes:** Takes place during season two but season is overall not really important.  
>  **Warning notes:** None. Okay, tiny bit of blood and mentions of an injury but it's really nothing xD

 

Lance tasted blood.

It made him gag, which morphed into a cough which sent  _pain_  like nothing he'd ever felt spasming through him. Exhausted ocean eyes glanced down and blinked once and then twice. The giant piece of metal protruding out of his stomach and pinning him to the seat did not change.

"Bl-Blue?" he stuttered, but his Lion's presence was completely gone from his mind and all of the lights in the cockpit had gone dark. Lance shifted slightly in the chair but stopped, low moan torn from his throat as the movement dragged at the metal inside of him and more blood gushed down his front.

"G-guys?" he tried his comms but only harsh static assaulted his ear. "Hunk? Sh-Shiro? Anyone?" His voice broke on the last word but no one responded. He tipped his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. All he remembered was they'd been fighting the Galra and Shiro had been shouting something at him and then… he must have been hit, obviously.

Blue's windows were dark so he couldn't see out but he didn't feel the familiar pull sensation of being in space. They must have crash-landed on one of the many small nearby planets the fighting had taken place in front of.

They would find him, right? His stomach gave another hot pulse and he whimpered. Soon. Hopefully soon. He felt light-headed already and his head was pounding. Probably blood loss. Maybe shock? Concussion? He knew he should have paid more attention in the few medical classes he'd attended at the Garrison.

He tried to stay awake knowing that falling asleep with a head injury wasn't a good idea. He made a list of all the foods he wanted Hunk to try and make, how many paperclips tall Pidge was and if all of the Paladins were superheroes what their powers would be. He had just settled on his debate if Keith's was super-speed or fire powers when he heard them. Voices.

He went to respond to the muffled sound, but he choked on his inhale. It was okay though. They'd found him. The voices grew closer and he frowned. They didn't sound like anyone on his team. Still… they sounded familiar.

"Hello?" called out a deep male voice and Lance started, eyes blown wide. It couldn't be… it couldn't be…

"J-Jules?" he managed.

"Over here, I heard something," Jules' voice said and Lance just stared. What…what was his older brother doing here? Was he on Earth? Had he…?

Creaking then, footsteps sounding on Blue's floorboards. Lance heard them come into the cockpit but he couldn't turn around the chair to see, trembling in a mixture of pain and hope. "I think there's someone here," came a new, older sounding voice, followed by a word Lance didn't quite catch.

The owner to it came into his sight a second later and Lance gasped. "Papá?" because his father was standing in front of him, clear as day; thick black moustache and goatee beard and kind if worried matching blue eyes to Lance's. "Papá?" he repeated, shocked.

Julio, Jules, appeared a second later, muscled arms and broad chest squeezing in next to their father. "I didn't think anyone would be alive," Jules murmured. "Didn't grab the ----," another word that Lance didn't quite catch.

"Papá? Jules?" he whispered as they both stood there, frozen. "It's… it's me. L-Lance," and more blood dribbled down his chin beneath his helmet. Clearly they were just as shocked to see him as he was them but that seemed to spur them into action.

"We're right here, Lance," Papá said, and his hands descended on Lance's shoulder. "It's all right now. We're going to help you, okay?"

Lance nodded, feeling tears sting his eyes as he soaked up the visage of his family and the shooting pain fading away in their presence. Jules was there then, hand gripping Lance's neck in a familiar hold before it tightened ever so and Lance gasped.

"It's all right," Jules murmured. "Rest, Lance. Rest."

The hand pinched at the back of his neck then and everything went blissfully dark.

xxx

There were murmured voices when he awoke that quieted almost immediately when he blinked open his eyes. There was a strange stone ceiling above him and he frowned at it, trying to remember what had happened. He turned and lancing pain shot through him and he groaned, feeling reflexive tears spring to his eyes.

"Easy, easy," soothed a voice and a hand came and brushed sweat-soaked bangs back.

Lance gasped and nearly sat up before more hands pushed gently down on his shoulders. "Mamá?" Because the hand carding through his hair belonged to his mom, her warm brown eyes framed by plump cheeks and dark hair.

"Right here, Lance." She shot a look over her shoulder and Lance followed her gaze, eyes widening. "I-Isa?" His older sister was standing there, hanging back with a trepidation he didn't normally see of his no-nonsense sibling. At the summons she came forward, bearing towels. Jules was there then again too holding a giant bowl of water, steam faintly rising from it.

"Wh-what happened?" Lance managed. "Am I… how are you…?" His body gave another spasm and he groaned, trying to curl over but large hands – Papá's – pushed back down on his shoulders.

He had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real. His family. His family was  _here._ They were dressed a little strangely, tunic-type shirts in orange and white and belted with sashes, but Papá and Mamá and Isa and Jules and were right here.

He was  _home._

"Oh, you poor boy," Mamá murmured. "You've been through so much, haven't you?"

Lance let out a little sob. " _Lo siento, Mamá._ I didn't mean to… to leave. I d-didn't…"

"Shh, shh," she soothed and he leaned into her caress. "It's all right now. We will take care of you."

"Ma—" He cut off with another groan and heard Isa quietly say, "the herbs must be wearing off, we need to move quickly."

"Has ---- arrived yet?" Papá asked, the name strangely blurring again. Lance closed his eyes, feeling a tear track down his cheek as the pain seemed to be growing by the second.

"I'm here, I'm here," came a no-nonsense tone and Lance's eyes flew open again, jerking his head as his Aunt Alma came into the room, wearing a smock over her own weird robe. "And I heard from ---- that we're not wearing the ----?"

"Tía?" Lance rasped.

"Tía?" his aunt repeated. "All right then." She turned over her own shoulder and barked something out and a moment later Lance's second older sister was at her elbow and he gasped out "Se-Seleste?"

She smiled at him, as tender and angelic as the heavens she was named for and knelt down next to him and Lance blinked. Had she always been so tall? He'd missed a lot while he was away. How long  _had_ he been away? "Hello, Lance," she said, drawing him from his thoughts.

"Wh-where's—?"

Childish laughter and squealing cut him off and the door to the large room swung open again, revealing two small children with a harried looking older sibling behind them. Gabe. Clarita. And good ol' Al, just as bad as normal at keeping the younger ones under control.

"Out, out!" Tía snapped and Lance winced at the harsh tone, especially as the little ones let out little gasps of horror as they spotted him. Mamá ran her hands soothingly through his hair and Seleste took one of his hands into her own, rubbing a circle on it. "This is a surgery," she said, voice pitched softer but no less fierce. "----, take them out now."

"Sorry," Al said, and he cast wide eyes towards Lance. Lance tried to muster up a smile. He didn't want to scare them. He was their big brother and knew Al looked to him as he looked to Jules. But he couldn't keep it up as his aunt put her hands on his stomach and fire erupted.

"Still deep in there," she muttered, voice going in and out as black dots danced in Lance's vision. "Where's my bag, Seleste?"

"Here, Tía," and Lance saw something pass hands. He blinked. Had Tía Alma always been a doctor? He knew she gave the best band-aids but… but why weren't they taking him to the hospital? Surely the Garrison would pay for it, right?

"Shh," Mamá murmured. "Everything will be all right."

"Here," and Seleste was pushing something up against his mouth. Lance gagged at the taste. A… giant cucumber? "Bite down," she instructed and Lance gave her the best traitorous look he could. She shared his aversion to the horrible vegetable. "Please. Trust us."

He bit down on it immediately even as he gagged again as its juices trickled down his throat. Of course he trusted his family.

"Tía has to remove the shrapnel now," Seleste explained. "But me and…"

"We'll be right here," Jules cut in. "Me and Isa and Mamá and Papá. Okay, Lance? We won't leave you."

Lance tried to mumble another apology – he had left  _them,_ they had nothing to apologize for – but it was blocked by the cucumber.

"Jules, I need your hands," Tía commanded and the gentle hold on his shoulder vanished a tick later, but then Papá's hands took their place and Lance tried to force himself to relax even though he had the terrible feeling he was about to be in a lot of pain.

"On three," Tía said. "One… two…" And she and Jules both yanked up on 'two' and Lance screamed, throwing his head back as he felt something  _move_ and _tear_  inside of him.

"It's okay, it's okay," Seleste tried to comfort, but her words sounded far away as he heard another count going down and this time on three he felt another horrible tug and he thrashed, trying to get away but then Isa's hands were pressing down on his legs – and she had always been so  _strong_ and he couldn't dislodge her grip – while Papa's grew firmer and even Mamá's gentle hand moved from his cheek to hold his head down.

He screamed again as they pulled on the metal lodged in him, but this time he felt it come free with a wet squelch and acid rose up his throat.

Mamá was pulling the cucumber free then and turning his head and he vomited, the action sending his stomach muscles clenching that had him crying and screaming around the bile.

Something was pressed then against the worst of the pain and his cry turned into a high-pitched wail that hurt even his own ears. The pressure did not let up.

"It's going to be all right, Lance," Papá's gruff voice sounded, thick with his own tears. "We're here. We'll take care of you."

Lance sobbed. He just wanted the pain to  _stop._

"Jules," Mamá called and there was a wet-copper scented hand then reaching behind his head and holding his neck. A sudden, sharp pressure and everything went blissfully dark once more.

xxx

Once more he awoke to the sound of hushed voices and a hand gently going back and forth through his hair. Mamá. He still couldn't believe it. His family. Here. With him. It was like a dream come true.

He remained still as the hand continued its gentle ministrations, caught in that haze between sleep and wakefulness and he knew as soon as he concentrated there was going to be pain. He'd like to put that off for just a little bit longer.

"—his back," he heard Seleste say, quietly horrified. "Those scars… What could have…?"

Lance winced very slightly. Ah. His scars from the explosion. The cryo-pod had healed most of it and all of the actual damage, but there was a patterning of light and dark flesh that stretched from his right shoulder and down towards his hip where he'd taken the brunt of the blast as he tackled Coran. It didn't hurt at all and he'd been able to accept it – helping matters much that he couldn't actually see it without the aid of a mirror.

"He is so young," Papá murmured, deep timbre reverberating almost like a purr next to Lance and he felt a large hand settle then on his hand. "What could he be caught up in that would hurt him so?"

"That ship we found him in," Jules offered. "It looked like a Lion. You don't think…"

"Impossible," Tía Alma's voice cut in, although it had lost the harsher edge from earlier and was a little wearier now, a little softer. "He is a  _child."_

"A child wearing armor and piloting a weapon," Isa said, her voice knowing. "Young in years he may appear, but he is no kit. He is a warrior."

Lance's lips quirked up slightly at that. Isa calling  _him_ a warrior? It had been she who had gone into the Navy, who had first taught him how to shoot, and was one of the toughest, fiercest people he knew.

"Oh, someone is awake," came Mamá's teasing tone and at being caught Lance blinked open his eyes, taking in the blurry forms of both her and Seleste right next to his head. "How are you feeling?"

He tried to answer "fine" but what came out was a croak and he winced, throat feeling like he'd tried to swallow half of a Varadero beach.

"Here, let him drink," and a cup was pressed to his lips by Seleste – she had turned into quite the caretaker, he didn't remember her being this patient before – while larger hands – Papá – helped him to sit partially up, but he gasped as a shooting pain stabbed into his stomach.

"Careful!" snapped his aunt and his father murmured an apology, supporting Lance in a half-recline while he took a sip of the cool and slightly minty drink and then another, before he was lowered back down.

"Do you know where you are, Lance?" Mamá asked gently, her hands returning to his hair.

"Home?" he hazarded after a still rough swallow. "In C-Cuba?"

"And how did you get here?" she asked in the same tone.

Get here? Why he'd—

He jerked upright although he collapsed back a second later as his stomach protested and his vision swam in a dizzying circle. "Bl-Blue!"

"Easy there," Jules pushed carefully down on his shoulder. "You're still pretty hurt."

"And sick," chimed in Seleste. And as if summoned at their observations Lance became particularly aware of how both cold and hot he felt at the same time and he shivered, the action causing the ache to go all the way through him.

"Blue," he muttered. "She's… she's hurt. My team…"

Because he had left them all up there fighting the Galra, hadn't he? While he'd been beyond lucky to somehow find his family they were all still up there fighting and –

"Calm yourself, Lance," Tía ordered. "You will make yourself sick."

"My t-team…"

"We will look for them," Isa said and at her words Lance felt most of the tension ease out of his shoulders. "Do they too also pilot ships designed like Lions?"

Lance managed a small nod, suddenly exhausted. "Yeah. Voltron."

He heard the sharp inhales of surprise from around the room and saw the shock painted on their faces. Despite the exhaustion he frowned. How did they know about Voltron?

"A lot has happened, Lance," Seleste said gently. "We will explain it once you are feeling better, okay?"

"Mhm," he mumbled, not questioning it for now. He was just so glad they were here.

The sound of a chair scraping sounded on the floor. "Let us go look for Lance's team," Isa said. His oldest sister leaned down then and pressed a kiss to his forehead and he hummed contentedly. "Feel better soon, Lance."

"Everyone out," his aunt ordered. "The boy needs rest." Something must have shown on Lance's face because a moment later his mother spoke.

"I will stay," she said quietly and he relaxed. He knew it was silly but he had this terrible feeling that if they all left then somehow they were going to be gone forever and he wouldn't see them again. He couldn't quite explain it but loss was burning inside him even though they were all still there.

"We'll find your team," Jules promised and he squeezed Lance's hand, a soft, sad smile on his face that Lance couldn't quite place.

"Feel better, Lance," Seleste murmured and she too pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Tía Alma gave his hand a gentle pat and they all filed out, leaving only his parents.

Papá disappeared from view for a second but came back with what looked like a blue banana, just pressed flat. He reached up and smoothed Lance's bangs back and placed it on the cleared forehead and he let out a little moan of relief as the coldness battled against the heat.

Mamá tugged a light blanket up over him, the fabric light but a little scratchy and it prickled against what Lance realized was his bare chest. He cast his eyes down and could make out the barest hint of cream colored bandages wrapped further on his torso and there was the barest hint of red peeking through the top one as the blanket was only covering his chest.

"You had quite the injury," Papá said quietly and his hand descended around Lance's holding the much smaller, slender limb between his own. Papá's hands had always been so big. Lance felt comforted by the familiar gesture. "But you're going to be all right. You just… you just need some rest." He squeezed Lance's hands. "You're being very brave, Lance."

"Brave?" Lance repeated. He didn't feel brave. He felt sick and scared even though he felt safe too. But worried. His friends were out there and they might be hurt, but when he tried to think on it, remember  _why_ they might have been hurt, how they'd been fighting Galra so close to Earth, he couldn't quite recall.

It was hard to focus too long on any one thought though as they flowed through him so quickly, hazy on the edges. Fever, his brain supplied. He was sick and things weren't entirely lining up. But his family was here, as his mom smiled at him and his dad gave his hands a squeeze.

"I'm going to join the others in their search," he said. "The more eyes the better, hm?" He leaned forward and pressed his own kiss to Lance's cheek, moustache tickling him and Lance let out a soft laugh that hurt but felt so good too. "I love you, Lance."

"Love you, Papá," he whispered. A moment later he heard the door open and close once more.

Mamá was back to carding his hair and Lance turned his head further into her touch. "Are you in pain, Lance?" she asked quietly.

"Not really," he answered honestly. Not right now, when she were there holding him and he was lying still, the pain faded away to a barely there ache. He wanted to remain here, forever. And after all the pain he'd put them through; probably thinking he was dead in some freak accident, they were all still here loving him and caring so, so tenderly for him.  _Dios,_ he'd missed them so much.

Tears pooled in his eyes and he heard Mamá suck in a little breath. "What's wrong, Lance?" she murmured.

"I… I missed you," he choked out. "I missed you so much."

"Oh, sweetheart, I missed you too."

" _Lo siento mucho_ ," he sobbed, switching back into his comforting tongue.  _"Nunca debería haber los dejado. Lo siento mucho,_  Mamá."

"Shh, it's all right now," one of her hands shifting to hold the one nearest to her lying limp on the bed. "I'm here."

" _Lo siento. Lo siento."_

The tears would not stop coming now nor the apologies from his lips. He had so much to apologize for. He'd hurt them. He'd hurt them so much.

" _Lo siento,"_ he repeated again. He turned towards her but that sent a hot, lancing pain through his stomach and his sob turned into a choked gasp and he curled up more at it, trembling and shaking on the bed.

"It's all right, Lance. It's all right." Her hands moved to rub his shoulders as well as carefully roll him onto his back once more and he whimpered as she forced him to uncurl. "I know it hurts, I know," she murmured. "You've been through a lot, haven't you?"

" _Sí,"_ he choked out, knowing that that didn't even begin to cover it.

"It's okay, you are safe now. We'll take care of you, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" he repeated, slightly breathless and brow furrowed in confusion. He'd never heard Mamá use such a term before. It was always " _mijo_ " or " _mi estrellita_ " to him, even though he'd outgrown being "little" by the time he hit his growth spurt at fourteen, although he was still shorter than Al by a few inches. His baby brother was just so  _tall._

"I'm sorry," she apologized and he watched an expression he couldn't quite identify flicker over her face. "It has… been a while."

He gave a small nod. He understood that. He tried not to imagine it but the images flickered into existence anyway; his mom kneeling next to his bed in his and Al's room, crying and clutching onto his stuffed plush shark the Garrison would have sent back in his belongings; her unable to speak her pet name for him, retiring  _mi estrellita_ as the casket was lowered into the ground; the rainstorms making her cry instead of laugh as he would normally have dashed out to dance in the drops.

He wanted so badly to hear her say it, but he understood. He had hurt her. Hurt her in a way no child should ever hurt their mother and if… if she couldn't use it right now, so soon, he understood. Still…

" _Mijo?"_ he whispered, aching to hear the other term spill from her lips.

" _Mijo,"_ she repeated back to him and pressed a kiss to his head. He relaxed fully then and she readjusted the blanket, tucking it about his arms although she pulled his hand free to hold it between her own again once she had finished, rubbing her thumb in small circles.

He felt sleepy then, but yet not. His mother chuckled as he must have made some type of face when she gently suggested he close his eyes. He didn't want to though. He wanted to soak in every detail of her face; her laugh lines and chocolate brown eyes. All he'd had since he was blasted into space were the few photos stored on his phone and he'd lost those for a long time until Pidge had configured a way to charge it so he could flip through them.

But pictures were not the real thing and now that he had it again he never wanted to let go. Even though…

As if reading his thoughts Mamá said, "So you are with Voltron, hmm?"

He gave a nod. "I'm… I'm a Paladin, Mamá. Of the Blue Lion." His heart gave another lurch at the thought of his Lion, lying broken and hurt where they'd crashed.

"Shhh, it's all right," her hand tightened around his. "We will take care of it. Don't you worry."

"Kay," he whispered, the vice unclenching.

"You… you fight?" she hedged and Lance winced. She hated that Isa had joined the military but she had been proud of her daughter for fighting for their adopted country. But Isa being in the Navy was much, much different than what he knew a Paladin of Voltron did.

" _Sí_ ," he said quietly.

"And these scars..." her hand left his to trail down his shoulder to where over the joint started the mottled patterns from the explosion. "You were hurt,  _mijo."_

Another nod. "But… but I was protecting people, Mamá."

"Oh,  _mijo,"_ she placed another kiss atop his head. "Of course you were. You are so very brave. And kind. But you are so young. I… I worry."

"I'm okay, Mamá," he tried to reassure, even though given the fact they'd found him with a giant hole in him in a broken down ship he wasn't giving the best case. "Really."

"Are you happy, Lance?"

The question gave him pause and he swallowed back the immediate "yes" that had been on the tip of his tongue.

Was he happy?

He missed his family; his siblings, his parents, his grandparents and his aunt. He missed home. He missed rain and beaches and the scent of cinnamon and tomatoes and spices.

But he was out here to protect those things.

He was helping to drive back the Galra, to save innocent people and planets. He was doing good, even though sometimes he felt like all he did was mess up, like he had here. He was lonely, yes, but he had his team. He had Hunk, his best friend. He had Pidge, his adopted little sister even if she didn't view him the same. Shiro was his hero and leader and Keith… Keith was his rival even though Keith didn't seem to think so. But they were all friends. Allura could be a little harsh sometimes, but she cared. A lot. Too much, sometimes, just like him. And Coran. A real smile turned up his lips. Coran reminded him a lot of his Papá if Papá had pointy ears and a random knowledge of every topic in the universe.

And he did love his little space family. They had food goo fights and video game nights and he and Hunk and Pidge would make blanket forts and design games and sometimes they could drag Keith and Shiro in too. They talked and laughed and played with the mice and he met so many people, grateful to him and Voltron. He saw cultures and got to try new things and explore  _space._ He had Blue, his beautiful girl, and he knew how much she loved him.

"Yes," he breathed after a few moments. "Yes, Mamá." His face crumpled a second later. "But I miss y-you. And Papá. And…"

"I know," she murmured. "We miss you too, Lance. But we are always with you, here." she placed a gentle hand atop his heart. "You feel us, don't you?"

"Y-yes."

"And we will always be there," she continued. "In your heart. Your family loves you dearly, Lance."

A kiss descended featherlight atop his head. "Sleep now,  _mijo."_

" _Te quiero,_ Mamá," he murmured sleepily, eyes drifting closed as sleep finally settled about him.

She placed another kiss atop his head. " _Te quiero, mijo. Te quiero."_

xxx

When he next awoke all was quiet and it took Lance a few moments to figure out where he was, the strange rock domed ceiling cluing him in a few minutes later. His family! He'd found his family!

He sat upright with a hiss as his stomach twinged. He glance down, blanket falling into his lap, but the bandages were a smooth cream and didn't hurt as bad as before. He felt clearer headed too, the haziness of the fever retreated.

"Hello?" he called out to the empty room, wondering where everyone had gotten to. No one answered and so Lance carefully eased himself out of the bed, bare feet landing near silently on the floor.

He grabbed the blanket from the bed and draped it about his shoulders, the rest of him clothed in a pair of the orange and white pants he'd seen his family wearing. He was going to have to ask them about that. Papá  _hated_ orange but he was pretty sure he'd been wearing it himself.

The home was unfamiliar to him; in addition to the bed he had been on several more lie about the perimeter. Had… had they moved? He supposed it made sense that his family wasn't in Cuba anymore given now that he was thinking about it he hadn't thought they'd been anywhere near Earth.

Had they come out here looking for him? Had the Garrison told them something about the strange Lion ship and they'd somehow found him?

It didn't quite make sense. But Seleste had said they would explain when he was feeling better. Well, he was feeling better. So now he just had to find them. They were probably all outside in the main room, he figured, so they didn't disturb him.

He made his way to the door and pushed it open, not quite certain what he would find.

He could safely say though he had not expected to find all of the Paladins sitting about on low chairs and his little intake of breath had them all turning as one.

"Lance!" Hunk was there first, throwing his arms about him in a tight hug that made his stomach twinge. "Oh gosh, you're okay!"

"Hunk, let him breathe or he won't be," Shiro cautioned although there was a smile to his words and Hunk abruptly loosened his hold with an embarrassed "sorry," and Lance patted his back with his one freed hand.

"You jerk, we were worried," Pidge was there then, wrapping about his other side with a little more gentleness than Hunk but still tight.

"I'm okay," Lance reassured them, peering beyond Hunk's shoulder to see Keith looking as relieved as he got and Shiro shot him a soft, smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes while the two Alteans were absent, although that wasn't entirely unusual as someone had to stay with the castle. Lance tried to ignore the weird wobble in his stomach at that and the fact he still hadn't encountered one member of his family.

Something was going on. And he didn't like being kept in the dark.

He reminded himself Seleste said she would explain and so he forced the tightness away and, inflecting, as much cheer into his still somewhat scratchy voice as he could, he beamed, "I found my family!"

Immediately Shiro's face fell into a thin line and Keith looked away while Hunk's arms tightened carefully around him. Pidge let out a tiny sob and that shook Lance more than anything, his smile falling away.

"What… what happened?" he asked, hating the waver to his voice. "Wh-where are they?"

"Lance," Shiro said gently but Lance pulled himself free of Hunk's hold, something sick rearing up inside.

"Where are they? They were just here!" He spun in a circle about the room as though they would appear. Where had his family gone? His breath was coming in sharp pants now as cold fear struck him.

Something was wrong. Something had happened to them.

_Where were they?_

"Lance, please, calm down," Hunk pleaded, reaching out a steadying hand. "You're going to hurt yourself."

And the pain indeed on his stomach had grown and he moaned, feeling dampness on the bandages. Hunk physically steered him over to a seat on the couch next to Shiro before dropping down to kneel in front of him, holding Lance's hands clasped in his own much larger ones.

It did not comfort Lance in the slightest.

"My family," he repeated, fighting tears. "They were here. Mamá and Papá and J-Jules and…"

"We know," Shiro said.

"Th-then…?"

A soft knock sounded on the outside door then and opened a moment later. A rather tall alien stepped in, skin an iridescent pink that seemed to shimmer as she moved with a large, smooth head and deep blue eyes with a circlet made of smooth stones and each etched with a symbol placed about her head.

She was wearing a white and orange tunic and sash.

The same one his family had been wearing.

The unsettling feeling grew.

"Hello, Lance," she greeted softly, voice a soft trill. "I am Saraba."

He felt like he should say something but his mouth seemed incapable of moving. She stepped further into the room. "How are you feeling?" she asked, coming to kneel next to Hunk.

"Where's my family?" he asked, voice small.

She sighed then and looked sad. "I am so sorry, sweetheart," she murmured and Lance started.

Sweetheart?

"My people are the Mlianas. We have the ability to shapeshift."

Lance's heart thudded.

"We take on the forms of those who gaze upon us need to see most," Saraba continued. Her hand went up to the circlet. "Our sagiryas allow us to maintain our true form. However…" Her gaze somehow softened even more as Lance choked on his next breath. "When my husband, Dayirat, found you neither he nor our son were wearing theirs."

"N-no," Lance whimpered as his mind put together what his heart did not yet want to believe. "No. They were… they were…"

Saraba reached up then and removed her circlet.

Lance let out a choked cry as her visage turned to that of his mother, blue eyes replaced with chocolate brown and skin from pink to sun-kissed tan.

Lance felt his heart shatter.

His mamá. Papá. His siblings. They hadn't… they hadn't been…

He'd imagined all of them.

"I am so sorry," Saraba replaced her circlet as Lance let out a wail and only Hunk's firm hold on his hands and Shiro's quick arm about his shoulders kept him from tipping all the way off the couch. "I know this is hard."

Lance sobbed, shaking his head in denial.

"We rescued you," she continued quietly. "And after you saw my husband and son for your own family I made the decision to continue allowing you to see us as your own loved ones. You…" her voice stalled. "You were in such pain, sweetheart. You were calling out for your mother and…" she placed one of her own hands on his knee then and Lance couldn't find it in him to pull away from her comfort. "And we wished to ease you as best we could while our doctor removed the metal from you and had to stitch you up."

"Saraba's family found us," Shiro added in quietly as silence reigned. "Allura was able to track the Blue Lion here after her systems came back on, but we could not find you. Lance…" his hold tightened where he flesh arm had wrapped about Lance's back. "Are you all right?"

Lance shook his head. "N-no… I…" he looked up and met Saraba's large eyes. "It was all a l-lie?"

"Oh no, sweetheart," she murmured. "No. We may have taken on the faces of your family but our words were our own. We may not know you, but we know of you, of the Paladins of Voltron. Our words were true and I daresay I can speak for your own mother as well. You are brave, Lance. And courageous and kind. And you are so, so loved. Your family is so lucky and proud to have a son such as you."

Hot tears were stinging his eyes and he let them fall. Saraba gingerly lifted her hand up and Lance lurched forward, startling them all as he fell into her arms and she held him tightly in her embrace.

"It will all be all right," she murmured. "I believe in you, Lance. You are going to do great things. I feel it. Call it a mother's instinct."

He clung to her tighter, sobs shaking his shoulders.

"It is time for you to go home now," Saraba said after a few moments. "With your family."

"But-" His family was in Cuba. Far, far away from here.

"They are your family, are they not?" she asked gently, inclining her head at the room's occupants.

He let out a shuddering breath. She was right. Hunk and Pidge and Shiro and Coran and Allura and Keith were his family now.

She smiled as understanding dawned on his face. "Before you leave, I have a few family members of my own who would like to wish you farewell, if you would allow it." Lance gave a tight nod and a few minutes later the room was filled with more Mlianas.

Papá. Jules. Isa. Seleste. Al. Tía Alma. And two little ones, who were apparently this version of Jules and Seleste's children were Gabe and Clarita. They all came up to give him gentle hugs and kisses on his cheek. He cried and did his best to return them.

But his limbs were starting to shake and the dampness was growing worse on his front. "It's time to get you to the castle, buddy," Shiro said as Hunk took charge and scooped Lance without protest into his arms. "We've got a cryo-pod with your name on it."

There were final good byes and Saraba placed one last kiss atop his head, trailing fingers through his hair. "Be safe, sweetheart," she whispered. "Take care."

They had to walk a bit back to the castle, which had parked on the outskirts of the small town, and Lance kept his eyes tightly closed on the return trip as Mlianas milled about and he didn't dare look to see who else they took on.

"You okay?" Hunk asked quietly as they cleared the last house on the row and the castle appeared in front of them.

"Yeah," Lance murmured back. He met Hunk's warm honey eyes and offered up a smile. "Let's go home."

 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Spanish translations; Lo siento much. Nunca debería haber los dejado_ \-- I'm so sorry. I never should have left.  
>  _mi estrellita_ \-- my little star
> 
> A lovely commission fic (from my fundraiser to assist a friend in a financial situation) that made me feel all the warm and fuzzies. The prompt from the lovely glitteringconstellations was for Lance to somehow make contact with his family (using her headcanons for both them and some other things, like Lance's scars from the explosion back on the castle) and for his mom to comfort him from an injury/illness, but in the end it was all in Lance's head. I took a little artistic liberty with this and really am pleased with how it turned out. Thank you so much for the commission love and I hope you enjoy it just as much!
> 
> If you enjoyed it as well please do drop a comment below. Please and thank you!


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